In exactly ten minutes the hunting chaise stood in the inner court of the count’s palace, and, as this was paved with huge granite flagstones, the count succeeded in reaching his carriage without spattering his white silk stockings, extending as far as the knee, or soiling his delicate velvet slippers, with their brilliant buckles and high red heels. Then the lackeys opened the great trellised gate of gilded iron, and with loud thundering the carriage rolled from the court out into the street. The coachman lashed the air with his whip, and the four coursers flew, hardly touching the ground with their pretty feet. The mud, to be true, splashed in mighty waves from the wheels and hoofs, giving the benefit of its floods to many an honest burger’s wife who could not on her stilts immediately escape; often, indeed, was heard the anguished squeak or piteous howl of some sucking pig or dog over which the hunting equipage had rolled; but it paused not for these, and in a few moments halted in safety before the mean little portal of that small, dark mansion, honored with the title of the Elector’s residential palace, which was situated on the other side of the cathedral square, near the Spree and the pleasure garden.

Before the portal stood a wretched carriage, covered with mud and drawn by four raw-boned horses, whose trappings and harness were wholly wanting in polish and neatness.

“The Elector means to ride out, it seems,” said the count to himself, with a contemptuous glance at the poor electoral equipage.

“Drive a little aside!” screamed the count’s well-dressed coachman from his box. “Let his excellency the Stadtholder drive up to the door, for it is just impossible for the count to alight here in this mud.”

But the coachman only shook his head proudly, in token of refusal, and darted a look full of inexpressible contempt upon the Stadtholder’s presumptuous driver.

“Drive out of the way!” shouted the count’s coachman.

“Here I stand, and here I mean to stay until the Elector comes!”

“Let him remain, William, and speak not another word,” commanded Count Schwarzenberg. “Drive my carriage up so close to the electoral carriage that I can conveniently step in.”

The coachman obeyed, and the electoral charioteer, who had begun the contention with the supercilious driver of the Stadtholder with inward satisfaction, and hoped for a long protraction of the same, now felt himself foiled, and saw with inexpressible astonishment the coachman turn around, with rapid sweep make the circuit of the square, and draw up close beside the electoral equipage. Before he yet comprehended the object of this manoeuvre, the count had stretched forth his arm, opened with his own hand the door of the electoral coach, stepped into it, opened the door on the other side, and stepped out on the broad leather-covered plank which extended like a sort of drawbridge from the threshold of the palace garden to the electoral carriage.

“Bravo, Schwarzenberg, bravo!” called out a laughing voice, and as the count, standing midway on the plank, looked up, he saw the Elector above at the open window, nodding to him with friendly gesture, and greeting him with a cheerful smile.

“That was good for the brazen scoundrel, Fritz Long,” called down the Elector; “how could the rascal dare not to move out of the way for the Stadtholder?”

“He did right, your Electoral Grace!” called up Schwarzenberg, as he hastily doffed his gold-edged hat with its waving plumes, and bowed so low that the tips of the white feathers surmounting the black ones touched the damp ground.

“Put on your hat, and come up,” said the Elector. “It is cold down there.”

“Only permit me first, most gracious sir, to do a little act of justice,” cried Schwarzenberg, turning with a pleasant smile to the electoral coachman, who stared at him with sullen mien.

“Fritz Long,” he said, with amiable condescension “Fritz Long, you have acted as became a brave and trusty electoral coachman. You are perfectly right; you must never drive out of the way, even should the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire himself come to visit the Elector. In recognition of your honesty and truth, accept this present from me.”

And the count drew from the side pocket of his richly embroidered vest two gold pieces, and laid them in the immense hand, gloved in a dirty, yellow gauntlet, which the Elector’s joyfully surprised state coachman reached out to him. The count again nodded affably to him, and passed through the palace portal. “I hope,” he said to himself, while he slowly ascended the broad wooden stairs “I hope that in the next riot my fellows will properly punish the shameless rascal, and take out the two gold coins I have given him in little pieces on his broad back.”

The Elector advanced as far as the antechamber to meet his beloved minister, and opened the door himself. “Listen, Schwarzenberg,” he said, with a smile; “you are such a capital man. You know how to help in all emergencies, and even when they drive you into the deepest mud you know how to come forth dry-shod and clean.”

“Well, I may indeed have learned something of diplomacy and strategy at the electoral court,” answered the minister, at the same time offering the support of his shoulder to assist the Elector in returning to his cabinet. “Your grace has summoned me, and I feared lest intelligence of a disquieting nature had reached your highness, the

“Very disquieting intelligence, indeed,” sighed the Elector, as he sank down groaning into his leather armchair. “But I suppose you know it already. Schlieben is back, and our son comes not with him; he only writes us a lamentable letter, in which he explains that he can not come home at this season of the year, and in the present conjunction of the times.”

“But that is rebellion!” exclaimed Schwarzenberg warmly; “that is putting himself in downright opposition to his Sovereign and his father!”

“You look upon it in that light too, then, Schwarzenberg?” asked George William. “You agree with me that the Electoral Prince has acted like a disobedient son and disrespectful subject?”

“Oh, my God!” sighed Schwarzenberg; “would that I could not agree with your highness! Would that an excuse might be found for this conduct of the Electoral Prince! It is painful to see how boldly the young gentleman dares to resist the supremacy of his father.”

“It is rebellion, is it not?” asked George, his excitement waxing continually. “We send our own Chamberlain Schlieben to The Hague; we write our son a letter with our own hand, enjoining him to return home; we, moreover, inform him verbally through Schlieben of the urgent necessity of his return, and still our son insists that he will remain at The Hague, and has the spirit to send Schlieben home without accompanying him.”

“That is indeed to put himself in open opposition and rebellion against his most gracious lord and father. And now your Electoral Highness must persist in requiring the Electoral Prince to set out and come back.”

“He must and shall come back, must he not? The Electress, indeed, intercedes for him, and would gladly persuade us that we should grant our son one year’s longer sojourn at The Hague, to perfect himself in all sorts of knowledge.”

“Your highness,” said Schwarzenberg softly, edging himself closer to the Elector’s ear “your highness, the Electress knows very well that the Electoral Prince has something in view at The Hague totally different from the acquisition of knowledge.”

“Well, and what may that be?”

“A marriage, your highness. A marriage with the daughter of the widowed Electress of the Palatinate with the fair Ludovicka Hollandine.”

“That would indeed he a fine, plausible marriage!” cried the Elector, starting up. “A Princess of nothing, the daughter of an outlawed Prince, put under the ban by the Emperor!”

“But this Prince was the Electress’s brother. It would be very pleasant to her grace’s tender heart to exalt her prostrate house once more and bring it into consideration again, and she would therefore gladly see her brother’s daughter some day a reigning Princess. Besides, the future Electress would then owe her mother-in-law a lifelong debt of gratitude, and the Dowager Electress might exert great influence and share in the government of her son.”

“Yes, indeed, they all count upon my death,” groaned the Elector; “they all long for the time when I shall be gathered to my fathers. They grudge me life, although, forsooth, it is no light, enjoyable thing to me, but has brought me trouble, deprivation, and want enough. But still, they grudge it to me, and if they could shorten it, would all do so.”

“But I, my beloved master and Elector I stand by you. I have placed it before myself as my sacred aim in life to guard you as a faithful dog guards his master, and to turn aside from you all that threatens you with danger and vexation. The Emperor, too, as your supreme protector, keeps his benignant eye fixed upon you, his much-loved vassal, and his wrath would crush all that should endeavor to injure you. There are, indeed, many here who think that the Elector of Brandenburg ought to make himself free and independent of that very Emperor, beneficent though he be, and, because your highness stands in their way, they attach themselves to the son, and, placing him at their head, wish to constitute him an opponent of the Emperor and empire. The Electress has probably not yet forgiven and forgotten that the Emperor put her brother under the ban of the empire, and banished him from country and friends. And the Prince of Orange, and the Sovereign States, the Swedes and all the enemies of his Imperial Highness and your Electoral Grace, would all unite their efforts to render the Electoral Prince a pliant tool in their hands. Therefore they wish to detain him yet longer at The Hague, and so to bind him there that he shall be wholly theirs, linked by an indissoluble chain. On that account they wish to bring about this marriage with the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine. I must confide to your highness the information that report has already bruited it abroad, and that it is spoken of at the imperial court. I have to-day received dispatches from Vienna which apprise me that the Emperor is very much opposed to this matrimonial project, and will never give his consent to it.”

“And I, too, shall never give my consent!” screamed the Elector. “I will not again be brought to feud and strife with Emperor and empire. I will not range myself on the side of the Emperor’s foes, and neither shall my son. I have always said that the Electoral Prince was staying far too long in foreign parts, and that he would return an alien. But you would never agree to it, Adam Schwarzenberg; you always thought that the Electoral Prince was much better off in his place than here, where the malcontents and disturbers of the peace would, throng about him, and that he could only learn what, was good and profitable there, while here he would learn much that was evil. And now it proves that the air there is much worse for him still, and that the tempters have more power over him there than here.”

“I was blind and short-sighted when I fancied myself wise,” replied Schwarzenberg, in a tone of contrition; “I was presumptuous enough to suppose I knew better than my Elector and lord, and now acknowledge in deep abasement how very wrong I was, and how far superior to myself my noble and beloved Electoral Lord is in penetration and foresight. I crave your pardon, most gracious sir, crave it in penitence and humiliation.”

The proud Count von Schwarzenberg bowed his knee before the Elector, and with a glance of earnest entreaty pressed his lips to his Sovereign’s hand. George William, flattered and enraptured by this humility on the part of his almighty favorite, bent forward and imprinted a kiss upon his lofty forehead.

“Rise, my Adam, rise,” he said tenderly. “It does not become the grand master of the German orders, the rich and distinguished count of the empire, to kneel before the little Elector, who is not master of an army, but so poor that he knows not how he shall live and pay his servants; who has nothing of his possessions but the name, and nothing of his position but the burden! Stand up, Adam Schwarzenberg, for I love to see you erect and stately at my side, and to be able to look up to you as to a staff on which I may lean, and which is strong enough to bear me.”

Count Schwarzenberg arose from his knees, and, resting his elbows upon the high back of the armchair, inclined his head toward the Elector, who looked up at him with glances of fond affection.

“My lord’s coffers, then, are actually empty?” he asked.

“So empty, Adam Schwarzenberg, that my servants can not obtain their wages, and if a beggar were to accost me on my way to church, I could give him nothing, because not a florin is to be found in my own purse so empty, that our whole project of the Electoral Prince’s return threatens to be wrecked thereby, for our son has incurred debts which we are not able to liquidate. Schlieben informs us that the debts of the Electoral Prince amount probably to seven thousand dollars, and, besides that, he needs at least two thousand dollars more to defray the expenses of his journey home, together with his retinue, his carriage, and his horses.”

“That is indeed a bad business,” said the count thoughtfully, “for it is almost impossible to raise money in these hard times. Nevertheless a remedy shall and must be found, provided that my most gracious Sovereign will condescend to accept aid from his most humble servant and retainer.”

“What say you, Adam? You will help me again?” asked the Elector. “Twice you have rescued me already from want, and supported my poverty with your wealth. I am your debtor, your insolvent debtor, who pays no interest, to say nothing of the capital.”

“But like a magnanimous, high-spirited gentleman, always give the greater for the less,” cried Schwarzenberg, smiling. “It is true I had the good fortune to be able to lend your highness a hundred thousand dollars on two occasions, but your highness gave me in pledge two fair domains in Cleves, which surely would be worth more than the sum lent if they should be sold.”

“But nobody would buy them now because war and pestilence rage there, and no one knows who is master there. I give them to you, however, these domains of Huissen and Neustadt: from this very hour they are yours, and I shall forthwith make out for you a deed of donation.”

“Oh, my most revered sir, how kind and generous you are!” said Schwarzenberg, “and how you shame me with your magnanimity and goodness! With grateful and submissive heart I accept your gift, and shall this very day tear to pieces both the bonds, and lay them at your Electoral Highness’s feet.”

“By no means, Adam,” said the Elector, almost indignantly, “for then I should not have presented you with Huissen and Neustadt, but you would have paid for them!”

“Then, at least, let me add now another sum, most honored sir, and condescend to accept from me fifty thousand dollars without writing an acknowledgement of debt.”

“Will you lend me fifty thousand dollars?” asked the Elector, joyfully surprised.

“I received important remittances of money from my mastership Sonnenburg, and have also saved something from my estates,” said the count. “It is true for the time being I have nothing left for myself, but it is better that the servant should suffer privation than his lord. I shall have the honor of transmitting to your highness this very day the fifty thousand dollars in specie and reliable bills of exchange.”

“And I shall immediately write you a receipt for them with my own hand,” cried the Elector, hastening with youthful speed to his writing table, and grasping paper and pen. With alacrity he dashed off a few words on the paper, moistened a great wafer, laid paper over it, and, pasting it beneath the writing, pressed his great signet upon it.

“There is the deed,” he said; “take it, Schwarzenberg, and send me the money.”

But the count refused the proffered paper, smilingly waving it off with his hand, while reverentially taking one step backward.

“First the money and then the deed,” he said; “all must be in order, gracious sir, and you shall not acknowledge yourself a debtor ere you have received your money.”

“Oh! how well I feel all at once!” cried the Elector, “and what a free, glad consciousness I have again in no longer feeling myself a poor debtor, but once more knowing that I have money in my pockets. Now we will give orders for our servants to be paid off; then we will pay the Electoral Prince’s debts, and send him money for his traveling expenses, that he may come home and have no pretext for refusal and delay.”

“Your highness ought to send another chamberlain to persuade the Electoral Prince in a friendly manner to return,” said the count. “There is, for example, Herr von Marwitz, a peculiarly polished and clever gentleman, and in good standing with the Electress and all favorers of the Swedes, but withal a faithful servant of his honored lord.”

“Yes, Marwitz shall set off for The Hague, and to-day, too,” replied the Elector, with animation. “Marwitz shall bring back my son to me, and I shall exhort and command him under penalty of my wrath to take no excuses whatever, and to enter into no further explanations. He shall pay his debts, take my son money for his journey, and say to the Electoral Prince that my accumulated wrath as father and Elector will fall upon and crush him if he does not now obey me. I will have an obedient and submissive son, with whom my will is law, else it were better that I had no son! This very day Marwitz shall set out.”

“I beg the favor of your Electoral Highness to defer the departure of the Chamberlain von Marwitz until to-morrow,” pleaded the count. “Your grace will without doubt desire to write a few words to your son; the Electress, too, will doubtless avail herself of the opportunity to communicate with her son and dear relatives; and I also have a few dispatches to prepare for our envoys there. Most humbly, therefore, I beseech you that Marwitz may not commence his journey to The Hague until to-morrow or the day after.”

“To-morrow then be it, Adam, to-morrow he must start.”

“Then your highness and the Electress must prepare your letters to-day, and candidly speaking, I had a great request to make of your Electoral Grace. I have arranged a little hunting party for to-day, and would esteem it an especial favor if your highness would do me the honor to take part in it.”

“I shall do so gladly, most gladly!” cried George William, delighted. “I could desire no more pleasant diversion for the present day than a little hunting party, and you know that well, Adam, and understand splendidly how to guess at my wishes. Yes, we shall hunt but I have no dogs. Mine were all left behind in Prussian, and the head huntsman informs me that the pack of dogs in this place is in very bad condition. I want a hunter and a strong fellow, such a capital boarhound as I have long wished for but have never been able to find.”

“I hope that I have found such an one for your highness,” said the count, smiling. “I have had inquiries instituted everywhere, and learned that there was a capital animal at Stargard, in Pomerania. I immediately dispatched a special messenger to Herr von Schwiebus, to whom the animal belongs, and in your highness’s name asked the purchase price of the boarhound, and requested that they would send the creature along for your inspection.”

“And he is here, the boarhound?” asked the Elector, with sparkling eyes. “Adam, you do indeed understand how to rejoice my heart and guess my wishes. Where is the boarhound? Let me see him.”

“Most gracious sir, Herr von Schwiebus seems perfectly wrapped up in this animal, and at first would not hear at all of parting with him; indeed, he was quite angry with Count Henkel for having told me of his precious possession. Only when he heard that it was your Electoral Grace who wished to make the purchase, he softened down a little, and sent a picture which he has had taken of his favorite, in order that your highness might form an idea of the animal and decide whether it would really please you.”

“Have you the picture with you, Adam?” asked the Elector eagerly.

The count hurried to the door and took from the little table standing there a roll of paper, which he had laid there on his entrance. He unfolded it, spread it out on a table, and on each corner of the paper placed a weight.

“I entreat your highness just to observe the portrait of the beautiful animal,” he begged.

The Elector hastily approached, and an expression of joyful surprise escaped from his lips at the sight of this picture, which, executed with tolerable artistic skill in water colors, represented a large and finely shaped hound, with massive head, clipped ears, and long tail.

“Adam, that is a wonderful animal!” cried the Elector, after a pause of mute rapture. “That boarhound I must have, let it cost what it will. Tell me the price, Adam, the price for this divine creature.”

“Most gracious Elector, Herr von Schwiebus seems to be a queer fellow. He said the dog would not seem dear to him in exchange for all the money in the world. If, however, your highness insisted upon buying him, he would give him up on condition that in payment for the dog he might cut down in the electoral forests three thousand trees of his own selection."

“He shall have his price, yes, he shall have it!” cried the Elector, his eyes fixed immovably upon the portrait. “Send forthwith a courier from me to Herr von Schwiebus, and have him notified that I buy the boarhound for three thousand trees, which he may select and fell from my Letzling forest. He shall, conformably with his terms, immediately send me the boarhound. Make haste, Adam, and attend to this matter for me; I long so to have the beautiful creature here. And as regards the Electoral Prince, we will put off Marwitz’s departure until the day after to-morrow, for we shall not have time for letter writing to-day on account of the hunting party, and that will occasion the delay of one more day.”